March 2005 / Volume VI / Issue II
Jane Adam
Kathy in Blue

there you were
hanging out with those bitches
all 3 of you had painted
your eyelids bright shiny blue
blue danger
blue flames signaled me
from a block away
as you 3 walked toward me
not seeing me
blue sign of your new tribe meant
you didnít love me
you didnít want me anymore

my mom agreed i was old enough
if yours thought you were
so i marked myself like your
slutty friends did
got pure blue becoming in a
plastic tortoise shell
not for belonging but for
putting you on my skin
breathing the dry waxy mineral perfume
of ground bits of things that
made it shiny
made it blue

cake of sky, cake of ocean
cake of you on
my fragile fold:
i needed that tiny mirror
to see you there